


Harry Potter and the Kindling of the Fire

by TigerShark



Series: Harry Potter and the Kindling of the Fire [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Genocide, M/M, Orphanage, School, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1535306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerShark/pseuds/TigerShark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of the World, Harry takes a desparate trip back in time to save the entire planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is reposted after editing. Please refrain from annoying the author with comments on grammar, spelling, tenses or what have you. Its free, its fanfic. Enjoy it or go away.
> 
> Commentors:  
> It is not in my nature to respond to most comments unless asked a direct and specific question. You might have more luck corresponding with me directly on livejournal via tigershark666. I do thank you for your comments, like most authors it helps to convince me to continue writing.

When Harry opened his eyes it was to the familiar sight of a plain plaster ceiling, plain white plaster walls, bleached white curtains over windows and the slight skin tingling sensation of serious sterile-field charms. He relaxed for a moment, knowing he was in a hospital ward somewhere and waited for his memory to catch back up to him.

Unfortunately it did.

The last day, week, month and twenty years came back in an agonizing and unstoppable flood. He dimly realized he was sitting bolt upright in the bed, and was breathing louder and louder, gasping like a dying fish. Around him charms and alarms whistled, twittered and generally went berserk

“Easy there man, calm down! Slow deep breaths now!” a middle aged man spoke to him, a strong hand held his shoulders. In front of him the other hand expertly twirled and flicked a wand. The alarms silenced.

Harry forced himself to think only of smooth white stone, and the ocean waves. After a few moments of this concentration his panic eased and with a wrench of effort he forced his whirling mind into the familiar patterns of occlusion. 

More calm, Harry looked around himself. In addition to the healer who still watched his face intently, was a mediwitch at the potions rack and another hovering in the doorway. He could just see the shadows of other people outside the door, but no sound. Without a doubt there was a heavy duty silencing charm on the ward. The room looked like most hospital rooms he'd ever seen, and he thought bitterly, there had been more than his fair share. The Healers uniform though proclaimed him to be at St. Mungos.

But St. Mungos had fallen years ago, its enchantments worn away and the whole building abandoned to Muggles. Who in their turn abandoned it as well, when the feeble electricity failed and the last gasps of civilization fled London.

A wild feeling of elation and sadness gripped him. If he was in St. Mungos, then they had succeeded. But if he was here, then all the others were gone, and he the only hope for the future.

“There you are now. Better?” The man asked him, smiling.

“Calmer. Er... where am I? Who are you?” Harry thought quickly. Best to avoid official notice of his travel.

“Senior Healer Arbitrage Muntgo. You are in St Mungos Mysterious Ailments ward. You've been here some weeks.”

“Weeks?” Harry gaped. Really weeks? The trip must have been worse than they thought.

“Well you were found unconscious right outside the main entrance on the summer solstice and we're heading into August. There was an amazing tangle of charms and hexes and old spell damage on you. Do you remember how all that happened?”

Harry weakly raised a hand to his forehead. His wrists and hands were wrapped in thick white bandages. “Frankly sir its a bit of a blur. I think I was fighting. There were ...giant serpents of fire? And I think someone throwing potions... but that's it.”

“Well maybe more will come back in a bit. If not I'm sure one of the Mind Healers may be able to help you a bit.”

Harry made a noise of agreement. Mind healers were the last thing he needed rummaging around in his brain.

“In the mean time, we do have all your belongings, safe and sound. Some very impressive charms and wards on them.. The aurors were impressed. We thought it best to leave them until you could disarm things yourself.” Healer Muntgo indicated a table with a battered leather robe, pile of neatly folded ragged clothing and a tiny, heavily sealed chest.

“Thank you. And my wand sir?”

“I have it.” Another man said from by the door. “Or rather whats left of it”

“Oh no!” said Harry. Harry mourned the loss of that holly and phoenix wand sincerely. It was his first wand and always felt like home to him. 

“I'm afraid so son. Seems that however you got yourself here was the last gasp. The wand exploded. Poor healers were quite some time picking the bits out of your hands.”

Harry looked at his hands, swaddled in white cloth. “I'm sure the phoenix feather didn’t help”

“Oh was that the core? It had been burned to ash so we weren't certain” An indefinable tension suddenly left the Auror, for that's what the other man was, judging by his heavy navy blue robes.

“To destroy a phoenix feather like that .. you must have apparrated a long long way.”

Harry paused to pretend to think for a minute, face screwed up in concentration. “Honestly I don't remember much at all … fire like I said and puddles of potion and glass all over.” Harry was recalling a particularly long and awful battle from several years ago. Well from his perspective. He'd found that when telling a whopper of a lie, the truth was always the best foundation.

“Wait. There were old buildings with orange tile roofs and .. lemons? A tree with lemons had fallen and the lemons were rolling all around and getting into the potions and one of them turned into a chicken. I remember that.” The chicken had been especially memorable... right up until it burst into peach colored flame and exploded in a smell of curry.

The Healer chuckled. “Sounds like a blinding potion.. if fresh lemon juice did that.”

“Orange tile roofs and lemons, sounds like Greece or maybe Spain. There was bad fighting in Spain a few weeks ago. I'll have a look for you in reports. Whats your name son?”

“er.”

“I won't be in the hall of records. “ He forces himself to look down at his hands, as if he was ashamed. “My name is Dexter Eades Potter.”

The mediwitch sucks in a small gasp and the Healer glares at her. Harry was glad of the handy excuse created by pureblood tradition. Born on the left hand side of the blanket, and Dexter you were. Nobody could blame a bastard for not wanting to talk about it, and a grand excuse for having no records.

“So an … offshoot .. of the Potter family?” The Auror is surprisingly kindly

“From America sir. Well my mum was American. One of the Eades-Yves from Boston. We moved to Britain after the Fire” Harry mutters at the blankets.

“Well young man. I'm sure the aurors will have some more questions for you, and we will want to keep you here under observation for at least a few more days.”

Harry resigned himself to waiting out the Healers. It would only be a week, two weeks. And after the last forty years, he had had a lot of experience waiting.

*******

Harry was looking forward to his release with amazing anticipation. It wasn’t just the boredom of the hospital routine, it was that urge to move that had been engrained into him after so many years on the go, and the burning need to get started on his mission.

Healer Muntgo had just bustled off with the last set of test scrolls and was due back any second with a clean bill of health for Harry.

A firm hand rapped on the door frame. Startled, Harry looked at the door. He was seated at the small table in the room, wearing the plain white hospital robes over a set of plain white loose cotton trousers and shirt. Soft white slippers rounded out the bland ensemble and Harry frankly couldn’t wait to be quit of it.

Waiting at the door was a middle aged man with a mane of wild black hair and sparkling hazel brown eyes. He was wearing long formal dark red robes, trimmed in black fur over plain black robes belted shut over what was undoubtedly a gold shirt and black slacks. If that wasn't clue enough already, the crest on the outer robe, the tall pointed hat of a sitting Wizengamot member and of course the Potter House ring on his right hand.

Harry's heart sank.

“Good afternoon. I am reliably informed that your name is Dexter Potter, of America?”

Harry rose from the desk chair and bowed, mind whirling frantically. This was the encounter he had been hoping to put off indefinitely. Bother. He had sort of been counting on disappearing into obscurity right away and never encountering his ancestors.

“I am indeed Dexter Potter. And whom do I have the pleasure... ?” He trailed off politely. Thank you Draco for all those etiquette lessons. Shame manners didn’t help when the muggles cornered you at last. But you took down more than your share at least, Harry thought bitterly.

“I am Charlus Potter, Lord of House Potter. I believe that you and I need to have a conversation at some time in the near future.”

“Sir, I am due to be released today, this very afternoon in fact.”

“Splendid, splendid!” Charlus exclaimed. “Then I can wait a bit, and you can accompany me to an early supper and we can have our chat.” He does looked thrilled at the thought. Harry began to have a dim glimmer of hope, though really he should know better by now.

Charlus leaned in confidingly “You must be desperate to get away from the food here. I know I was, last time I fetched up in St. Mungos.”

“Trying to ride a hippogryph wasn't it Lord Potter?” Healer Muntgo rapped out sharply as he entered the room.

“Oh I'll get the hang of it one of this days, Bungo old man.” Charlus laughed and slapped Healer Muntgo on the back. Obviously they knew each other.

“Well judging by your performance on a broomstick, I'd better warn your staff to polish up their Cushioning charms.” They both laughed, and Harry smiled faintly.

“Well Dexter, it seems all your tests come back fairly well. We have you down to see Mind Healer Spritz Thursday next, if your memory doesn't clear up any more.”

“Thank you sir.” Harry smiled

“So can I spring him from your tender care, Bungo?”

“Certainly, Chuck.” Said Healer Muntgo with some relish  
Charlus makes a sour face

“You reap what you sow. Chuck.” Says the Healer, frostily. “Now make sure you don’t get the poor lad sozzled. He has lots to do yet today.”

“Here is your list of potions prescriptions, the apothecary in Diagon should have most of those already made up and be able to owl that tricky memory stabilizing one.” He hands Harry a scroll. “You can wear those robes for now, just have them laundered and owl them back when you have a moment.”

“Wonderful!” Charlus beamed. He flicked his wand at Harry, who suppresses a full body flinch. A mutter of a few spells and Harry's shiny white ensemble is now a plain and non fussy black robe and suit. “There those should hold till after supper at least. Can’t have you going about looking like a sainted virgin, Dexter.”

Harry looked down at himself, and thought 'well a dementor is hardly better', “Thank you sir”

Harry allowed himself to be bustled out of St Mungos with the bundle of his belongings and bustled in to and out of a floo grating. Rushed through a small antechamber, up a set of quiet stairs and into a small private sitting room with an already set luncheon table, before he could catch his breath.

The heavy stifling feeling of privacy and silencing spells, gave Harry a foretaste of the near future. Mentally sighing, he seated himself after Charlus, making sure to keep an eye on the door and the small heavily glassed window nearby. 

The room was small and cozy, white trimmed powder blue walls rising to a tall and cloud bedecked ceiling. The furniture is all pale wood and blue satin, very french in feeling.

After the waiter shimmered in and out on seemingly oiled feet and took their orders, Charlus suddenly lost his air of joviality.

“Well Dexter, I think it's time that you explained yourself..” Charlus leaned forward, one elbow on the table and one casually holding his wand. “I can see you are a Potter. That hair doesn't lie”

Harry self consciously smoothed his hair back. It never did want to lie down, but after growing it to shoulder length at least it didn’t stand straight up any more, but arranged itself into wild locks and waves.

“So I nicked some blood of yours from old Bungo last week and ran it through a Heredity potion.”

Harry suddenly freezes. Blast. Damn and blast. The one thing he thought he had successfully avoided.

“So. Harry James Potter. Son of James Merlin Potter. Grandson of Charlus Potter, which would be me, much to my surprise. Would you like to explain this?” Charlus asked, deadly serious as he carefully placed a parchment on the table. Harry could see his name at the bottom and the familiar stop stutter stop start of his life lines recorded in a tangle of dates.

Harry took a deep breath.

“I was sincerely hoping this wouldn’t happen Sir.” Charlus nodded and gestured for more,

“As you can tell, my name is Harry Potter. I have traveled here from the year 2050. I have an urgent and most important mission and Grandfather”,  
He leans forwards, “If I think you will jeopardize my mission I will kill you right here.”

Charlus' eyebrows raised.

“I take it that your not being born will not bother you if your mission fails?”

“Not in the least. In fact it would speed up everyone's release from suffering that much quicker.” Harry’s voice is bitter and dark, the memory of too many fallen friends and enemies redolent in his tone.

“End of wizard kind?”  
Harry nods

“Muggles too?”  
Harry nods.

“Well bugger.” Said Charlus  
“Yes, pretty much.”


	2. Chapter 2

There was a long contemplative pause as the chime sounded and the waiter shimmered back in with a bottle of wine, water condensing on the chilled glass, and two long stemmed wine glasses. A bowl of mixed fruit, a plate of assorted pickles and some bread joined the table and the waiter disappeared as silently as he had come.

“I'm wondering how much I should ask, Harry.” Charlus said slowly.  
“Nearest to my heart is the matter of succession ... since I am in fact a bachelor and I had thought unlikely to have an heir.”

Harry blinked. 

“You hadn't thought to have an heir sir? um. May I ask why?”

“Oh no need to stand on formality.” He waves his hand casually “The heredity potion is impossible to fool entirely, which means we are family. I hadn't thought to have an heir because, well to be frank, I prefer wizards to witches.”

Harry paused, surprised and carefully made a show of selecting a small bunch of grapes.

“Actually that does surprise me … Charlus? Considering my father and all. But its nice to know I come by it naturally.”

“Ha. Well I looked over that tree of yours ... I think it likely I adopted James off of Cousin Ernest and his wife. At least the woman’s name matches. Would have been a full Blood Adoption, for the Heir of an old House like ours. But that might explain it I suppose. Keeps it in the bloodline at least.” Charlus picks a brilliantly red apple and slowly starts sectioning it with his belt knife.

“Any rate. That’s the succession at least. I presume you won't be ... asserting your rights? Going about as Dexter as you were.”

“I hadn't thought to Charlus. Frankly I had intended on just disappearing and changing my name as soon as possible. I was surprised at all the attention at the hospital.”

Charlus waved carelessly with the hand holding the apple. “We have a war on boy! Of course the aurors were all over a mysterious chap appearing at the front doors bleeding all over the pavement and with his wand up in smoke. Could have been one of Grindlewalds spies.”

Harry laughed suddenly. “Would you believe I'd forgotten all about Grindlewald? Oh dear.” he absently waved his hand over the grapes and muttered a few quick spells. The grapes flashed a safe green and he popped one in his mouth still chuckling.

“Well no wonder you got all in a bother when a Dexter Potter suddenly appeared. Ah and that's why the Auror was glad to hear it was a phoenix wand. The German wizards never use them do they?” he questioned.

“Absolutely right. Old Ollivander won't share the secret of binding a fire feather to a wood core. I'm sure the other wand makers are in a bother. But it does make it easier for us to tell an English wand from a German one”

“Oh that’s a special trick? Huh. No wonder it took so long.”

At Charlus' quizzical look Harry grinned. “Few years back my wand got seriously damaged. Nymph ate half of it, frisky thing. Took me ages to grow the wood back around the core and get it to align again. Actually that's when I got used to using my other wand.”

“You're being awfully confiding for a perfect stranger Harry.” Charlus said with concern.

“Well Charlus for one thing, there are enough silencing and privacy spells on this room to choke a basilisk. And for another thing.” Harry leaned forward, one hand flat on the table. “I already told you I wouldn't hesitate to kill you. So what makes you think obliviating you isn't far behind?”

“Good point my boy, good point. Of course I don't see a wand on you but I'm s'posing that doesn't mean much.” He nodded at the fruit. “After all you just flicked off a few good detection spells without a wand so I don’t think a quick incarcerous and stupefy would trouble you much. Good to see a strong bloodline coming along, have to say.” Charlus noisily crunched a slice of apple.

“And of course the house elf hiding in the corner.” Harry smiled slowly, showing his teeth.

Charlus is taken aback but then bursts out laughing. “Indeed my boy! Very good show.”

“Of course it helps that I know that cloak very well.”

“Aaah as a Potter of course you would.” Charlus paused. “Should I ask about your mission?”

Harry sighed. “There’s not much to say. I have a handful of definite tasks which should be fairly simple and one that is fairly impossible. I have some leads, but I needed more time and more resources than were possible.”

“Resources. Books I presume?” Charlus tipped his head quizzically, slowly working his way through the apple

Harry moodily ate his grapes. “Well at some point, shortly, I need to find a home for a magical orphan. I need a large muggle free plot of land to house an assortment of magical creatures as per an oath, I need to change or block some laws, eradicate large amounts of the ministry and I need to start cultivating some very rare potion ingredients. And of course ... research.”

Charlus pondered. A long silence ensued, broken only by the sounds of eating. After the first half glass of wine is gone the waiter and his chime reappear with more food. Some time later, after most of the food has vanished from Harry's plate, Charlus spoke again.

“Well as you know I have more land than I can possibly do anything with. So I think Grandson, I can spare you a bit. Providing of course you swear to hand it back to the family afterwards.”

Harry was honestly startled. “Charlus? That's. Um. Break up the legacy? I'm not sure that’s wise”

“Oh pish tosh. Its not breaking up anything. You're my grandson and even if you are a Dexter to the public eye, as long as its an entailed estate then as long as you will it back to the Potters, or die with no heirs there's no bother.” Charlus took a long drink of his wine, an especially clear blue rose wine.

“I'm thinking actually of a specific property which belonged to an old family. When their line died out the estate and the title defaulted to their closest descendants, the Potters. Since we've never had use for a moldy old castle and miles of howling wilderness I think I can pass off the old Peverell Keep and properties to you for a bit.”

Harry is quite entirely speechless. Peverell Keep? They had one?

“I'm guessing from that gobsmacked expression that you had no idea. And frankly my boy that worries me.”

Harry bit out “From what I could determine, after I was orphaned at a very young age, my erstwhile guardian sold all the estates and artifacts he could get his grubby hands on. Sent me to live with muggles.” Harry’s lip curls in long remembered resentment.

“Remind me not to trust the man with a plugged knut.”

“I'm afraid you'll be trusting him with the life of your son, as does everyone who sends their child to Hogwarts in the next fifty years.”

“Well then could you put 'Get rid of' on your to do list? Before he gets his hooks into my son. Ha! My son.” Charlus chuckled darkly, “Talking about the cart before the thestral.”

“But making you Lord Peverell adopts you into the Potter line, gives you a wizengamot vote that’s just been sitting round gathering dust and gives you more clout than you'd get as a mere Dexter. Plus a whacking great stretch of mountains and heath for your plants and whatnot.”

Harry ponders the idea. An entire castle, with lands and ancestral wards and of course, political power.

“Won't it damage your position to legitimize a bastard son?”

“Not at all my boy. I have an idea.” Charlus gestures expansively with his breadstick.

“You said something about an orphanage and protecting wildlife. What you need to do my boy is start a refuge, a sanctuary. Get the full blessings, papers from the Ministry and take in magical orphans. Gods know they need the help, what with Grindlewald going mad on the continent and nowhere to put them.”

“And a sanctuary makes you a Guardian, very proper and all sorts of kind feelings, so of course I, your benevolent cousin Lord Potter will make sure my wonderful kindly cousin has somewhere to do all his good works.” Charlus points his finger at Harry.

“You get your land and a library and a sterling reputation and I get lauded for being so charitable to my fathers by blow. All nice and tidy and nobody can say a word.”

Harry thought about it. Charlus was right, it does cover all the gaps and then some.

“I also need a standing circle. Any chance there's one on the grounds already?” Harry slowly trailed out... mind thinking madly over all the issues.

“A circle? Probably. Bet there are three, honestly. Old Peverell was mad for rituals from what I remember. I think we've his journals socked away someplace.”

Harry sat bolt upright. “Peverell's Journals? Ignotus?”

“Ignotus or one of his sons. I take it you know the name?”

“I was told they were all ...” Harry’s faces twisted in disgust and anger.  
“I bet that old bastard stole and destroyed them. Sounds like just what he'd do the shortsighted old coot. So what if they could save the world, its not like he'd give a toss.”

“Language Harry.”

“Sorry Charlus. It's just that there’s probably information in those journals that I've been desperately seeking for years.”

“Harry I think, knowing what I know of old Ignotus that I really need to ask this. Are you a Dark Lord?”

Harry stared at Charlus for a moment and then burst out in a merry peal of laughter. This took quite a few minutes, as every time he looked at Charlus he started to laugh again. Eventually Charlus started chortling as well.

In a breathless wheeze Harry gasped out “If I am then I'm a terrible dark lord. Worst” snicker “one ever.”

“So if you don't want to conquer the world .. saving it then? Muggles and all?” There was an odd look in his grandfathers eye.

“Actually Charlus” he said grinning “The muggles can go hang. Its the wizards I'm most worried about. Without the wizards this world will surely perish. And no I'm not going to tell you the details. In fact Grandfather I'm going to ask you to make some unbreakable vows, to protect you as well as my mission.”

“Well I'm glad to hear you aren’t all caught up over the plight of those foolish creatures. I was somewhat concerned.” Charlus leaned back in his chair, and laced his hands over his stomach.

“Then you'd better take more care how you raise James, Grandfather. He loved muggles.” Harry rolled his eyes. “But I think you can put a lot of that blame on the old coot.”

At Charlus' questioning eyebrow Harry said darkly “I won't say his name. I don't know when he put it on a Taboo, and last thing I need is him knowing what I'm about before time.”

“A taboo? Well I'd better more careful who I talk about. Well if he's at Hogwarts as you said... “

Harry nodded

“And for the next fifty years , that rules out old Dippet, who should be retiring any minute. One of the other teachers?”  
Harry nodded.

“And since you use circles and I'd hazard a guess at old ritual magic like old Peverell. Then it would have to be a teacher of the Light affiliation. And the most interfering one of those that I know...” Charlus looked very angry suddenly as realization dawned.

“Grindlewald's adversary?”

“I'm afraid so. And not an adversary so much as ex-fiance and expartner in world domination. Charming old fellow really.”, Harry was still bitter at that knowledge. Something he gained decades after Dumbledore’s demise at Snape’s hands.

“How on earth did my son fall into that camp? The Potters have been Dark as Dark for centuries.” Charlus scowled.

“That's a very good question. I know I can cast both, but when I was young and under his control more I struggled with anything remotely Dark. He twisted the minds of the children at his school Charlus.”

The waiter appeared a final time to clear the plates and leave delicate bowls of rose scented pudding at their table. There is nothing so crass as payment asked or offered. The restaurant will add this meal to his standing account, and send the bill along to Gringotts at the end of the month, per usual.

“Well “Dexter” my dear cousin. Lets go buy you a castle”

Arm in arm the Potter men descend the stairs into Diagon Alley and slowly proceed to Gringotts.


	3. Chapter 3

Diagon Alley is pretty much the same as Harry remembered from his childhood, before Voldemort’s war had driven most of the shoppers into hiding. Clumps of wizards and witches trailing small children thronged the Alley on their errands. The few people in muggle attire seemed old fashioned to Harry's eye and he snorted. Of course they were, he was back in … in ... hmm...

“Lord Potter?”,. He asked Charlus, reverting to formality in public.

“Yes, Mr Potter?” Charlus meets his eye with a flicker of a smile. 

“I didn't get the chance to ask in St. Mungos but ah, … whats the date?” Harry hadn't wanted to ask a Healer and be stuck even longer in the hospital. Not knowing the year is generally a bad sign and gets Healers very excited.

Charlus raised an eyebrow. “July twenty eighth, 1934. Nazis are rising to power in Germany, backed by Grindlewald. Grindlewald's followers are seizing control of the German Ministry. Austria’s civil war that they got started, was back in February. Think there were a couple new kings in muggle Europe. Quidditch world cup is in mmm Italy? Next month, I've tickets. News from the muggle papers suggests that Hitler, and therefor Grindlewald, will be put in full power of Germany any day now. You might have done better staying in your coma, Cousin.”

“Sleep for a few months and war just keeps coming. Sad state of the world cousin”, Harry said, grateful for Charlus' quick thinking and political briefing. He is starting to understand why House Potter has been so powerful for so long. Charlus seemed like an amiable old duffer, but under the good humour is a sharp political mind.

They stroll past a cluster of witches reading broadsheets fastened to a large pillar at a cross street. Harry notes Ollivanders store is virtually unchanged, but the sweet shop across the way is a bakery and the cafe he and Ginny had spent so much time at appeared to be a florist. Or something with plants in pots and flowers at any rate.

The reminder of Ginny brought a sour taste to his mouth and he consciously flexed his occlumancy barriers, blocking away the memories for just a bit longer. He should have known that Diagon would remind him of the past. That hadn't happened in years, but then London being a burnt out crater will do that.

Charlus led the way past the main entry stairs at Gringotts and they approached a small awning covered door at the side. A single goblin in Gringotts uniform looks at Charlus through a monocle and nods him through.

Charlus strode importantly through the hallway past various open office doors. Harry trailed behind him, as seemed suitable for a poor relative. Curious eyes of both wizard and goblin flickered over him, but since this area was obviously for good customers, pureblood manners forbade any kind of commentary. Though Harry was certain all of pureblood Britain would know about him by teatime.

A confusing and slightly painful hour later, and Harry is the proud possessor of one brand new name “Harold Dexter Potter Peverell”, one Peverell Family ring, firmly in place on his left hand, one Peverell family estate and all the wards thereto, one Wizengamot seat, one Gringotts house dependent vault for Potters, and title to a half dozen house elves.

“Sorry about the house elves cousin, but I'm up to my eyeballs in them. The manor is shinier than a healers spittoon, can't keep them busy enough. But you can pick out the ones you want.”, Says Charlus as they exit Gringotts via the main entrance hall.

Harry says casually, playing to the crowd “Well I'll want all the ones who love taking care of children and who love farming, for the Sanctuary you know.”

Charlus nods genially. “Well Cousin, of course I must support your Sanctuary. Taking in magical children in need is a cause I think anyone can support.”

Harry is amused to notice a sudden spate of gossip in the crowd around them. It seems that Charlus is a master of manipulating the crowd.

“So cousin, a quick trip to my tailors and then off to the Ministry to get your sanctuary approved, what?”

“I do still need to stop at the apothecary for my prescriptions Charlus. And I wouldn’t mind picking up a bit of this and that while I'm there.”

“Nonsense Harry! Once we finish with the ministry I'll take you to the potions master at Potter Steading. He'll have you all set in a shake of chimeras tail.”

Pondering that unsettling image Harry suffered through a visit to the tailor. Charlus has definite ideas about what the charitable do-gooder Lord Peverell should be wearing and Harry is more than happy to leave him to it. As long as no feathers are involved anywhere.

The last few years he has been happy to have fairly clean fairly dry clothing with not many holes. He's even had to resort to washing things by hand, once the supply of magical energy had become so scarce that even a basic scourgify was wasteful. But at that time since the muggles had mostly been blasted into extinction, at least water was easy to find.

“And I think several sets of dress robes in neutral colours, with a bit of green to match his eyes. Harry show the man your ring so he can get the crest.”

Harry shows the tailor the Peverell ring, which has two tiny but faithfully detailed thestrals bowing on either side of a very murkily dark uncut emerald.

“He'll need a Headmasters robe and hat at least ... any masteries Harry?”

“Defense, Wards and Magical Zoology. All American certificates though Lord Potter. I'm not sure they'll be recognized here...” Harry trails off. He hadn't been expecting to need all this high society nonsense. But Charlus' plot does make sense and it will make things a great deal easier for him to have a known and established presence in society.

“Stuff and nonsense. A mastery is a mastery. Though that last would be Care of Magical Creatures here, but close enough. So one set of Masters robes with all three markings on it Twilfig? And while you are at it bang together some apprentice's robes for each and sashes. I'm sure you'll need them soon enough cousin. With the Sanctuary and the school and all.”

Harry nodded. 'Wait what? What school?' He hadn't said anything about a school.

Harry waits until they're out of the shop and are headed to the public floo grates. He walked close to Charlus and asked quietly. “I don't believe we'd discussed a school.”

Charlus looked at him confused. “Of course you'll have a school. What else are you going to do with the little perishers before you can send them away to be educated at Hogwarts?”

'Oh.' Harry thinks to himself. 'That's a good point.' He sighs. Suddenly life seems to be getting very busy.

“And for that matter I'll be writing a few letters on your behalf.” Charlus hardly breaks stride as he removes a pouch of floo powder from his belt, and holds it out to Harry. “Headmaster Dippet for one, the Department of Child Welfare (magical division), the heads of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons and a few people here and there who can send along children who need your sanctuary. And you'll need at least some part time staff once you have enough sprogs for the school.”

Harry and Charlus step into the floo “Ministry of Magic, Permits and Certificates division” and are whirled away in a bump of green fire and soot.

“Lord Potter, after we're done here, can we find the Squib Welfare Department?”, Harry asks, struck with a sudden idea.

“Squibs? Merlin's beard why?”, Charlus mutters quietly, as they stride through the bustling Ministry hallway

“Because dear cousin, you just saddled me with a castle and I'm going to need servants. House-elves only go so far, and I think you'd object if I nicked your housekeeper. And squibs should be able to teach simple things like basic maths and penmanship.”

Charlus barked a laugh “Good point Peverell. Well by all means, after we get the Sanctuary registered we'll go hire you a dozen squibs. At least they'll be cheap.”

Harry smiled secretively. Charlus glanced at him sideways and seemed to be making a mental note of something.

They paused in front of the office marked “Permits, Charitable Works and Institutions”. Something seemed to have taken the wind out of Lord Potter's sails at last. He heaved a sigh and scowled at the door like it had offended him.

“You might almost be better off if I don't come with you Harry. I'm afraid that Administrator Cavill and I had a … disagreement. There were Aurors involved at the end.”

Harry is starting to really like this ancestor of his. Far from the stuffy old patrician that Sirius and Remus' stories had painted, this Charlus seems to be a a bit of trouble. His favorite sort of person really.

“Well then my Lord, I think I can brave one ministry office by myself.”

Charlus seemed entirely relieved. “That's mighty good of you, I know I did say but old Puffer has had a thing in it for me since Hogwarts, you know. Can't see why. He looked smashing in violet.”

Harry repressed a snigger. “Then I'll meet you at the floo we came in by after I'm done?”

“Of course, of course, and the mean time I think I'll go and twitter in a few ears about my wonderful cousin.”

At this point Harry has now learned to be worried. Charlus seemed to complicate his life a great deal, with the best of intentions. Now he understood what drove Hermione crazy all those years, it must be hereditary. Well it hasn't been all bad so far ... and he can always bring up the wards and hide if Charlus goes too far overboard.

Harry pushed his way in to the office of Charitable permits, as Charlus nonchalantly but very quickly proceeded down the hall.

“Good afternoon. Welcome to the Ministry division of Permits for Charitable Works and Institutions. Can I help you with anything?” A very handsome red haired man asked, looking up from a book at his desk. Harry got the feeling this office does not see a lot of traffic.

“Good afternoon. I'm told this the office where I can register a Sanctuary for Magical Children?” Harry asked, diffidently.

The administrator looked very surprised. “A Sanctuary? Not an orphanage?”

Now Harry is puzzled. “ I have just recently come back to Britain. I was speaking with my cousin Lord Potter about my plans for the future, and especially taking in other magical orphans like myself. He suggested I create a Sanctuary. I hadn't realized that was different from a regular orphanage.” Harry explained, as he settled in the small hardbacked wooden chair he summoned in front of the desk.

“Ah. An orphanage is specifically for children with no parents or family, so that they can be cared for until adoption. A Sanctuary is a sort of short term to long term guardianship, in this case, of any child of magical birth, whether there is other living family or not.”

“So an orphanage would not take in say a child with living uncles, or one who’s parents had been disowned? Or muggleborns and squibs?”

“That’s correct.... ?”

“Oh I'm sorry. Pardon my manners. Lord Harry Peverell. Just created Lord this morning actually .. Lord Potter is being so kind and supporting my little charity.” Harry smiles.

Administrator Cavill suppresses a tiny frown. 

“And your relation to Potter is ?”

Harry summoned a blush and looked down. “He's my half brother. Different mothers of course. I was Dexter Potter until Lord Potter so graciously gave me the Peverell estate for my Sanctuary.”

Cavill seemed delighted to hear such scurrilous gossip. He leaned forward confidingly, “If I know that old scoundrel, he left the estate entailed didn't he.”

“Er. Yes. But I don't mind really, as long as the Sanctuary can continue after I'm gone.” Harry lied, breathlessly. 

“Well in that case, lets nail down this sanctuary in perpetua shall we?” smirks Administrator Cavill. And then proceeds to bury Harry in parchments. Several miles of documentation later, and some nasty poked fingers from careless quills, Harry is now the duly registered Guardian of the Ambrosius Sanctuary for Magical Children, the Headmaster of the Ambrosius Wizarding and Witchcraft School, and the Guardian of the Peverell Magical Wildlife Foundation.

He staggered out into the hallway with a pouchful of parchments. Charlus is lurking just down the hall, hiding behind a carefully wide open copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Merlin's beard Charlus, what did you do to that man?” Asked Harry once he is close enough.

“I swear it wasn't entirely my fault.” Charlus is very good at looking innocent, Harry noted.

“Well whatever it was, its done me a good turn. He was more than happy to do a good turn for your shameful Dexter brother. You may have a great deal of trouble getting that estate back from the Sanctuary.”

“Harry! You snake!” Charlus cried, pretending shock.

“I'll have you know I was a Lion.” Harry smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

“A lion? Dear me what is the family coming to.” Charlus seized Harry's arm jovially and dragged him down the hall.

“We're in luck, the lovely lady manning the Squib office today is the sister of an old chum of mine from school. She thinks your Sanctuary is a perfectly wonderful idea and she's rounding up some references and whatnots for you to pick staff from...”

“Charlus I get the feeling that half the Ministry is either an old friend or an old enemy from school. Frankly I'm nearly worried to attend the Wizengamot as your relative now.”

Charlus chuckled. “Well you know how it is. Hogwarts is when you meet everyone who is everyone, throw mashed potatoes at them and are either best mates the rest of your life or snipe at each other forever over bureaucratic forms. But it keeps us busy and out of trouble, unlike those mad men over seas, running round overthrowing muggle governments.”

“I'm afraid that school for me was a combination prison, deathtrap and auror camp. Not to mention I know literally nothing of ...” Harry paused aware of their seemingly inattentive audience “proper manners in wizarding culture. I was raised in Muggle America mainly.”

“Well I think people will forgive you being a heathen American. At least you don't sound like one. And I can load you up with all my old books from the nursery, for your orphans when you find some, so you can have a brush up.”

They exited the stairs on another much dingier floor, with many small rooms crowded practically door frame to door-frame. You had to say one thing about wizards, with space expansion charms they certainly made the most out of every inch of real estate.

“Ah squib relations department” Charlus announced as he opened the door and waved Harry in.

“Miss Delzy Maybury, may I introduce my dear cousin Lord Peverell, Harry Potter Peverell. Harry the beauteous Delzy is the younger sister of my most feared rival in Ravenclaw house, Eutria Maybury.” Charlus bows to Delzy, and makes a grand gesture as if presenting Harry for her approval.

Harry took his cue and bowed, as properly befit a low level Lord to a single witch. He can nearly feel Draco's cane across his back pushing him to the exact correct angle. At the time he had thought humoring a deadly ill Draco by learning proper manners 'finally' was pointless, but it is turning out to be very useful.

Delzy was a plump blonde haired young witch. Probably not older than twenty five, which considering that middle aged was one hundred, made her just barely out of school and probably with no Mastery to her name. Small wonder she'd fetched up at a time marking job like this in the Ministry until she snagged a suitable husband.

Delzy giggled, and extended her hand. Harry gently took it and bowed over it.

“Lord Potter was telling me all about your wonderful idea for a Sanctuary and how he's given you one of the old family properties.” Delzy simpered, fluttering her lashes at Charlus. Harry realized she must not know she has no chance at all. Poor young thing.

Harry and Charlus subsided into two small overstuffed armchairs that were wedged in front of Delzy's desk. The room was still fairly small even with the enlargement charms, and was almost overwhelmingly decorated with anything and everything in a floral motif. Harry was quite sure if he had to spend much time in this room he'd be trying to pluck the roses off the wallpaper in no time at all.

“Yes Charlus has given me title to the old Peverell Keep. I've never actually seen it, but I assume it will need a bit of work.”

“Yes the main keep should be in good shape, I'm not sure about the outbuildings and of course the Home Farm is probably a wreck by now. So Harry needs, lets see, farmers, gardener, livestock handler, butler, housekeeper, nurse, a nanny or two and some maids and footmen and whatnot. All living in of course. Will you be having a stable?” Charlus asks and then continues without a response.

“Probably at least one groom, and I'm sure when he gets some lads they can play at stable boys. Good for their character or at least that's what my father said. ”

“Charlus, I presume I have space for this army? “

“Oh dear lord yes. I think at its peak Peverell Keep and the village outside housed about a thousand people and their livestock. But its in the middle of nowhere really, so after the Black Death had passed, the family never saw much point in reopening it.”

“Well if I set up floos and a stop for the Knight Bus then some of the staff can go home for weekends at least, so I won't need to make room for the entire staff. I hadn't thought you were fobbing off a whole town on me. Do I get an auror and a healer too? Or must I grow my own.”

Delzy pointedly shuffled some of her papers, and then favoured Harry with a blinding smile. “Well most of the agricultural and outside staff should be easy to supply. Do you mind non British squibs?”

“As long as they can speak English, or consent to a translating charm I don't much mind where they come from. For that matter, its only charitable to offer employment to any misfortunate half breeds or lycanthropes as well. I'm sure in time some of the children who take refuge at the Sanctuary will have similar misfortunes of birth. So some good hardworking role models would benefit my charges.” Harry was starting to get an idea of the persona of Headmaster Peverell, and threw himself into the role of the charitable do-gooder with gusto. Charlus seemed to be a bad influence.

“Well this office only handles squibs but Penelope in the Lycanthrope bureau will be thrilled to hear that Lord Peverell. I'll send her a note later, so she can owl you some references , I'm sure she'll have some people for you.” Delzy smiled brightly and made some notes on a piece of scrap parchment.

“I will also be running a Sanctuary for Magical Creatures elsewhere on the grounds, so if you hear of any half bloods or squibs who like working with magical beasts, I'd welcome the help.”

“oooh! So you do have any already? I simply adore puffskeins.” Delzy practically squealed

A stiff faced older woman in a portrait to the side of Delzy's desk looked up from her knitting and coughed genteelly. Delzy blushed and visibly moderated her enthusiasm.

“No puffskeins I'm afraid. A brace of unicorns, two somewhat ill wyverns, and a handful of this and that. Quite a few magical serpents, I've always had a knack with them. But I'm sure more will wander in.” Harry said deprecatingly. Truthfully he had a menagerie of creatures, the few surviving ones he could find, ranging from harmless to deadly. But he wasn't about to tell this ministry that.

“Well here are some references that I have on hand. I'll send word to the squib Refuges and see if any one else is available. And of course once you start hiring they do talk to each other, so I'm sure you'll have a full staff in no time.”

Harry accepted the pile of parchments Delzy hands him. He glanced at the top one , it seemed to have a small wizarding photo in one corner, and a list of previous employment and a small biographical paragraph.

“Thank you ever so Delzy. Now I think I should whisk Harry back the Manor before he falls over. First day out of St Mungos and all”, Charlus gripped Harry firmly by the elbow and with much bowing and exhortations of 'of course I'll owl you' managed to ease them both out the door.

Business finally completed, they return to the main Floo and with a cry of 'Potter Manor' returned to the Potter ancestral home. Or, rather, arrived for the first time in Harry’s case. He wasn't sure what he was expecting.

They emerged from the floo in a high ceilinged room, paneled in dark wood; There are no windows, and only one door. The carved wood panels have several protective runes that Harry recognizes, and several that he doesn't. Also visible was the Potter coat of arms, as well as smaller version of various subsidiary families as well as allies. The animal motif along the ceiling border had among many others the Peverell thestrals, cavorting happily with Potter lions, Malfoy wyverns and an assortment of other heraldic fauna.

A single house elf seems to be stationed in the floo foyer, behind a diminutive desk. Harry boggled at the sight of a house elf with quill and parchment, who studiously noted down the arrivals.

Charlus nodded towards the elf “Gives at least one of them something to do and I've found it dead useful to have every arrival, departure and delivery noted down to the minute. The wards should have accepted you as a Peverell and a Potter. All okay there?”

Harry nodded. He could faintly feel the tickle of the wards around him, but nothing more. 

“Well I think I should let you go and freshen up before dinner. I'll send your potions script along to Master Seaford. The elves will bring your deliveries up when they arrive. Dinner bell should be sevenish, in the meantime I have a number of letters to write, so I'll leave you to your own devices. Ask an elf if you need anything, if you are brave enough. Ha!” And happily bustled off towards what Harry can only assume is the direction of his office.

After a pleasant dinner with Charlus, during which they spoke at length about politics and Harry's political aims they retired to bed. Harry, fully expecting the worst, was not surprised to wake up several times during the evening. However the silencing charms he had laid on his bed and room worked remarkably well, as did the magic nullifying potion he had before bed.

At least this time his bad dreams didn't break any furniture.

But interrupted sleep took its toll and Harry found himself wide awake, hours before breakfast time


End file.
